


We Fall Out Of It

by micehell



Category: X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009)
Genre: AU (movie!verse but also comic!verse to a degree and some fanon), Angst, Drama, M/M, maybe some hints of other nastiness, one spot of angry sex too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-08
Updated: 2009-07-08
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micehell/pseuds/micehell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whatever he'd been, this is who he is now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Fall Out Of It

**Author's Note:**

> In its first incarnations, this was strictly movie!verse, but somewhere along the way it morphed into this kind of odd movie!verse comic!verse mix (and fanon), so I've classified it as AU, even though it (should) never directly contradict movie!verse canon. ;)
> 
> Title taken from Our Lady Peace ( _Theif_ , which I thought appropriate on several levels *snork*).

He's in an abandoned shack just over the New Jersey state line when he smells him coming, senses he guesses are far better than normal tracking the kid as he cautiously picks his way through the trees and overgrown brush that surrounds the place. Logan thinks about running, hiding, fight or flight taking a turn for the latter. He knows instinctively that it's not his normal reaction, but since he doesn't actually _remember_ his normal reaction, he's not buying that flight isn't the way to go here.

But he holds still, letting the kid approach, quiet like a cat. Anxiety/concern/fear/arousal hangs like a cloud around him, and the concern and fear, more than anything, lets Logan relax. This _friend_ he doesn't remember likes him enough to worry, but isn't so stupid he'd approach without caution. Logan's just guessing, as he is about most things, but he thinks he liked that his friends knew to be careful. That they know just how dangerous he can be.

Logan's near the back of the shack (wall behind him, window to the left, protection and escape), but all that happens is the kid calls out to him softly, "Logan."

It's not a question. He's looking right at Logan, even in an unlit cabin on a cloudy night, and Logan adds _good night vision_ to the things he knows about this guy. Considering the only other things on the list are _brought him to Three Mile Island_ , _thinks Logan should trust him_ , and _hot as hell_ , it's not much of a list, but Logan is kind of grateful to have something he knows _anything_ about around him.

Not that he'll ever tell the kid that. Instead he asks, "How'd you find me?"

He gets a shrug as an answer. Logan gives him a minute, waiting for a follow up, but that's it until he repeats the question, irritation graveling his voice to a growl. It ramps up the kid's anxiety and his arousal, which almost makes Logan laugh as he adds _slightly kinky_ to his growing list.

"Your bones… my power pings off whatever's in them. Don' know what it is, but something non-reactive. Tracked you that way. Know you said you'd find your own way out, but didn't just want to leave you alone like that."

Kid's hesitant, like he's afraid to mention the powers, but Logan had already guessed there was something about him, just as he had about himself. The gaps in his memory are mostly personal information: his name, his history, what the hell he's fucking _like_. But he still remembers loads of other things. Obviously he still has language skills, knows he speaking and hearing English. He can still remember Japanese, too, and maybe a bit of French. He's heard the Cajun accent pulling at the kid's consonants, and wonders if he's the source of that last bit of knowledge.

But even beyond the senses that seem to be more akin to an animal's than a human's, Logan's also seen the bullet holes in his shirt, the smell of the powder still lingering around it, and not even the faintest trace of a scar underneath. He doesn't remember so much as feel it in his bones (so dense and heavy and _wrong_ ), that this, this perfect healing, is part of his own power. That no matter what the kid's talent turns out to be, Logan doesn't have to be cautious of it on a physical level.

"Fair enough," Logan says, willing to believe that's how he was tracked across three states, even though he was being careful. He's even willing to believe the kid did it to make sure he was okay. He had said they were friends, and it's what a friend would do. Not that he's not still suspicious (though he has to wonder if he was this paranoid before he lost his memory), but he's willing to go with it for now. So he just asks, "What's your name?"

"Remy." A blinding smile goes with it, and Logan's breath catches at it. He'd been amused at the kid's, at _Remy's_ , arousal in stalking him, but he has to say he's not totally immune to it either. Guy's a looker, for sure. Logan has to grab his own hand with the other to keep it from wandering up to his face, the sudden need to know if he might be attractive as well hard to resist.

Logan lets down his guard enough to play gracious host, pointing out the least ramshackle crate littering the floor of the place for Remy to sit on, and the kid doesn't even hesitate at the dirt and cobwebs that cover pretty much everything.

He perches tailor fashion on the crate, considering Logan. "You really don' remember anything?"

And the answer to that is no, not really, but Logan's not giving that kind of information away. He just shrugs and says, "I don't remember you."

It's fairly dismissive, but Remy just laughs, shrugs. "Maybe I'm just a forgettable guy."

Logan doesn't believe that anymore than Remy believes Logan's evasion. It's tempting, the thought that he might be able to trust this guy. That he might be able to tell Remy just how lost he is, and have someone else to help carry the weight of all that emptiness in his head where _Logan_ used to be. Instead he asks, "What exactly are your powers?"

There's a pause, and Logan wonders if there's some sort of etiquette he's broken, like asking someone what their powers are is like farting really loudly, and, apparently just not done. But Remy just smiles and answers, "I convert potential energy to kinetic. Makes things glow real pretty."

Physics is another thing that Logan can remember, at least enough to know that Remy's downplaying what he does. He's guessing the fireworks that come from the conversion aren't merely a pretty glow. But it's not the understatement that bothers him. It's the lie he can smell coming out of Remy's skin. And Logan likes the kid, even without memories of anything they might have done before, but he can't… he can't take a lie right now. Not when he has no way of judging how serious it is.

Remy tenses, like he can see the change in attitude on Logan's face, even though Logan had thought he'd locked it down. Either way, he's up, the fear that had faded coming back, the arousal fading as he backs away. He smiles, a little ruefully, as he places his hand on the mostly broken door knob. "I just wanted to make sure you were all righ' now. That you didn't need anything."

He's paused at the door, as if waiting for Logan to give him a list, but the list of what he needs is too long, and the one he has on Remy now has _liar_ on it, so Logan just lets him go with a, "See you later," neither one of them really believes.

~*~

It takes three months of trying to make his way in the world without knowing a damn thing about himself (that's not either guessed or learned as he goes) before Logan breaks down and admits he kind of does need something from Remy. As bad as that is, though, it's nothing to the fact that he doesn't have Remy's power to help him track someone across three months.

Using logic, he figures that Remy's accent equals New Orleans or thereabouts, and at least his memory's good enough for that. Doesn't make up for the fact that all he has to go on is one name in a city that has a hell of a lot of Remys in it, none of which might be the one he's looking for. But after two weeks of getting nowhere, he asks the right guy if he knows a Remy that's young and very good looking and might be considered a little… _odd_. He gets _no_ for an answer, but Logan can smell the lie even over the can of Axe the asshole apparently sprays on everyday, and it doesn't take much work to find the kid after that.

Remy's apartment is nice, but impersonal, from what Logan can see in the low light. From the lack of a lived in smell, Logan figures it's just a bolt hole for someone who obviously lives, at best, on the edge of the law. If the type of people keeping his secrets and the damn good security on the place are anything to go by, anyway. He knows the security is good, even though he got by it, because Remy isn't surprised by his appearance; Logan, even as good as he was apparently trained to be, must have missed something along the way.

Remy's a much better host than Logan, offering a real chair and a drink, both of which he takes. He's staring into the amber liquid in his glass, smelling the expensive malt cupped in heavy crystal, trying to think of how to ask what he needs to know, when Remy says, "I didn't know you all that long. Before… well, before."

"Shit." It's heartfelt. Logan had known it might be a possibility, but he'd hoped, anyway. Wanted to know _something_ about his past. "How long before?"

"Couple of days."

"Well, fuck." That's heartfelt, too, because the kid had said _friend_ , and Logan's wondering how he got friend from that amount of time. Maybe it's his short hand for _guy I got some action with_ , which would explain the low-level lust Remy's still emitting even now.

Remy shrugs at the curse, a wry grin giving his agreement, but there's something in the way he's holding himself, like he's debating saying something else. Logan waits for it, not sure if coming on strong would help or hurt in this case, and not wanting to lose his chance at any information he can get. Remy blows out his breath, making his bangs flare for a moment, then says, "I do know something about your past, though. Not that you said, directly, but those tags… I know where they came from."

Logan had studied the tags, but couldn't make sense of them. They weren't military, or not official, not with the odd names on both sides, the ID number that's non-standard for either the US or Canada (and why Logan knows that is just another mystery). He'd even paid a hacker to see if he couldn't track it, but the guy hadn't found anything in his sweeps, so whatever it was it was buried deep.

But not for Remy, fear coiling around his skin again, though his face is calm. The kid's a good actor, but whatever it was that Logan had been involved in, it scares him deeply. Logan doesn't want to scare him more, but he needs to know. Whatever it is, whatever it says about him, he needs to _know_. "Tell me."

Remy's voice is as calm as his face, giving nothing away to anyone who doesn't have Logan's senses. "Still don't know much, me. Just what I heard, see. Some top-secret black ops shit that even most people in the government have never heard about. They were taking mutants, stealing them right out of their homes at times, trying to build a super mutant. Take the best of all of us, make it something more. Something they could control. Something that could control us. Kill us all, maybe. Mos' likely."

This time when Logan smells the lie, he doesn't let it get to him. He can guess what it is, and wonders just how long the kid had been part of the experiment, how he'd gotten away. He wonders also if this is where the last lie had come from, a hesitation in what his powers were just in case Logan was really a part of the damned operation. Logan thinks about his bones, about how they just feel _wrong_ , and wonders if whatever had caused that had been voluntary on his part, or just another piece of this puzzle.

"You got any names?"

The smell of fear gets heavier, and Logan can almost smile at the kid's concern. Whatever had happened to him before, he obviously doesn't believe that Logan was part of it, not as concerned about him as he is. "Don'. Just don'. You go stirring things up, you don' know what'll happen. You're damn good; strength and speed and those damn claws. But they got… they got plenty of practice dealing with mutants. Caging them. You healed from whatever they shot you with before, but you already lost your memories with it. What if next time it's more?"

Logan swallows the rest of his drink, putting the glass down carefully on what looked like a damned expensive table. Bolt hole it might be, but the kid has high-priced taste. And he has logic on his side, too. It's a huge risk to go hunting for those that hunted people like him as a matter of course. But Logan has to know, or at least know he tried his best. He'll go crazy otherwise, and who wants three hundred plus pounds of crazy, especially when it comes equipped with the ability to heal from pretty much anything and 'strength and speed and those damn claws' as well.

So Logan ignores Remy's question, and just asks, "What's your last name, kid?"

"LeBeau."

He'd expected Remy to lie again, or just evade the question. But that's the truth, easily given. "Just gave that up, no fight at all?"

Remy shrugs. "Ain't like it'll matter if you go and get yourself killed. Ain't like I'd mind seeing you if you don't."

Logan almost stays at that, at least long enough to settle the ache in his dick that being around Remy seems to bring. But the kid's already attached to him in some way, concerned enough over him to worry, and Logan… Logan's list of friends only has the one entry on it. If he stays now, it would mean more than he can afford for it to be, at least until he has more answers. Or fewer leads to explore.

This time Logan's the one that says, "See you later," and it's a promise he'll do his best to keep.

~*~

It becomes almost a game after that. Remy finding him in Pittsburgh four months later, Logan finding Remy in Vegas three weeks after that. Across the country, even into Canada a couple of times, each of them covering their tracks, but never completely, leaving clues like invitations.

A year and half into it, in a rundown bar in Dayton Beach, rum in hand, sand between his toes, and the scent of Remy somewhere nearby, Logan decides he's run long enough.

He goes to his room, knowing Remy will follow. He doesn't bother to lock the door. Remy's far too good a thief, and the hotel locks wouldn't even be a hint of a challenge.

Logan kicks off the flip-flops he was wearing in deference to the 'no shoes, no service' policy most of the bars on the beach don't even bother to enforce, then moves on to his shirt. He's just starting in on his pants when Remy comes in behind him.

Remy's breath goes short when he sees more of Logan than he's used to, but the kid's always been damn quick on the uptake. There's no tease or hesitation in the way he strips down, though Logan is amused at how many weapons he has to take off before he's finally completely bare.

Without his clothes to be another layer of defense, Logan can see just how accurate the word kid is, skin barely touched by time. Far too touched by experience, though. Remy's got a great body, lean and strong, all long muscle and light bones, but there are too many scars, some almost as old as the kid himself, and Logan feels a stab of anger and a fierce protectiveness that mixes with the lust that just being around Remy brings out in him.

Remy takes his hand, pulling his fingers out of the fist they've clenched into. "No need for that. No need to worry about anything. Not here and now."

And Logan can't help but believe him, not when Remy's hands are trailing along his ribs, skirting his hips, coming closer to Logan's dick, which is apparently trying to reach out for that touch. He twitches when Remy takes hold of him, long, graceful fingers circling his dick with almost unbearably good pressure, and Logan could come just from this. Just from breathing in the smell of all that's familiar in his life.

But as good as the hand is, it's nothing to the feel of Remy's mouth, stretched wide around him, wet and hot, and, Christ, the kid could make a fortune with that mouth. Hell, Logan would take up thieving himself, be Remy's sugar daddy, just to keep feeling the way that talented tongue strokes over him, odd flourishes, like he's signing Logan's dick with it, all of it random enough that he can't guess where it'll light next. Keeping him on edge, but not letting him go over it.

Logan tries to hold himself still, to not use his strength to an advantage, but he can't take it anymore, winding his fingers through Remy's hair, around the back of his neck, pulling him down further onto his dick, down as Remy swallows around him, and that's it, that's enough. He tries to pull back, to not make the kid swallow, but Remy just holds on, hands tight on Logan's hips as he encourages him to fuck his mouth with everything he has.

He feels bad after it's over, after he can feel anything again except for the fading pulses in his dick. Remy's mouth is swollen, red and slick with his come and the force of his thrusts. But those swollen lips are curved in a wicked smile, and Remy puts a finger over Logan's lips before he can say anything.

"You can't catch nothing, oui? Your healing factor, it would just take care of any little nasty somethings that tried to take you on?"

Logan starts at that. He hadn't even thought of a condom, so caught up in consummating something he'd been thinking about for what was basically his whole life. But, yeah, that sounds familiar, true, and he knows he's never caught even the whiff of a cold or any other bug out there. He has problems just getting drunk, and it takes a lot of alcohol and some damn fast drinking just to get a decent buzz off the stuff, so he's guessing Remy's safe from catching anything from him.

What he hadn't realized is that Remy wasn't asking about what they've done, but rather what he plans to do now. The finger that trails down Logan's back, sliding easily along the tracks of sweat that still dot it, follows all the way down, until it's resting lightly against his ass, circling the hole, asking for permission to go further.

And he doesn't remember if he's ever done this before (ever done any of this), would think that he's not the type, with all the anger and aggression he's usually having to swallow down, but his dick twitches at the feel of it, the thought of it, and Remy's hard against his leg, and fuck, Logan wants this even if it isn't something he's done before. He presses back against that finger, taking it in a little, liking the burn and getting harder by the second.

Remy gets sidetracked along the way, looking for something to use as lube, but Logan doesn't need it, spit will do, and he mouths Remy's dick in a slightly awkward but enthusiastic way to slick it up. Remy's still hesitating, wanting to open him more with his fingers, but Logan's waited so long for the foreplay to stop, a year and a half of waiting, and even if part of that was his own doing, he just _wants_ now. "Just do it already, will you? You can't hurt me, or at least not anything that won't be better just about a second later."

They both moan as Remy finally sinks in. Logan's far more of a tightass than he'd thought, and he laughs at the pun he's made, which relaxes him enough that Remy sinks in even deeper. They both moan again, but it's not with pain this time, spit and precome and a little bit of blood smoothing the way as Remy starts to thrust, tiny little jerks of his hip. It's almost more rolling his hips up and down rather than in and out, but every time he shifts, he's hitting Logan in just the right spot, and, fuck, that's good.

He'd just come, not even ten minutes before this, and Logan's already desperate to do it again. It comes to him, as he fucks himself back against Remy in what could only be described as a wanton way, that he's sort of a virgin here, but that he's definitely not acting the part. It makes him laugh again, an extra vibration that sends him tilting over the edge of orgasm, taking Remy along with him.

They sleep and fuck and sleep and fuck for hours. It's only later, both of them nearly punch drunk with exhaustion and need, Logan deep in Remy but going slow, mindful of the bruises he's littered all over the kid's body, that Remy finally slips.

Logan doesn't notice it at first, so caught up in the way the kid feels so tight around him, how fucking good it feels when Remy writhes below him. But it's almost like he can feel what Remy's feeling, too. The way that Logan's body, almost too heavy even with a lot of his weight resting on his arms, pushes him into the mattress. The way that Logan's dick, hard and thick, is gliding over skin that should be fucked out already, that should be in pain from all the use it's been put to, but instead is trying to take Logan in deeper, have him touch places in Remy that no one ever has.

He's tired and horny, and that might explain it, that second set of feelings, lapping over Logan's own like the best of fantasies, but there's a strange smell coming from Remy now, sweet and sharp, like nothing Logan can remember smelling. He knows, in the same way he knows he speaks English, and the same way he knows Remy is attractive (instinct, the only thing he really has to trust), what it means anyway.

It makes sense now, the way Remy always seemed to know what he was thinking or feeling, that first lie about his powers. It also makes Logan fucking angry. There's very little that he has left in the world, not even his own history, and he'll be damned if he lets some 'path take away the privacy of his mind.

Remy tenses under him, picking up the anger in whatever way he does, but Logan's too close to stop now. It's anything but gentle, though, as he pounds into the man under him, anger and lust mingling, making everything that much more intense. They both come, one right after the other, but that drive to keep doing it, to do it until there's nothing left, is reduced to embers, anger in control now.

Logan's not going to hit him, not without knowing exactly what's going on, but the urge is there, a perverted form of the lust the kid usually brings out in him. Remy cringes away from him, proving Logan right, and he winds up crashing his fist into the wall to keep from following through on the greater urge. He stands facing the wall, wondering what he'd done in his previous life to deserve this, laughing softly at his idiocy for thinking with the wrong head. "Why, Remy?"

Remy's still watching him carefully, not yet moving to run, but feet under him just in case. "Why what?"

He sounds genuinely confused, and it irritates Logan. Why is the kid being obtuse now when he really isn't in the best mood to spell things out? Usually he's two moves ahead of Logan, a mind as quick as the thief he is, and though Remy counts too much on that speed sometimes, he's usually far enough ahead it doesn't matter. "Why what? Why ask, when you can just look in my mind and see what I'm talking about? Or are you going to pretend you're not a telepath?"

Hair flying with his denial, Remy puts out a hand, trying to get Logan to listen. "Remy's not a 'path. Don' like 'paths, me."

Logan hates when Remy refers to himself by name rather than pronoun. It's yet another defensive layer, and right now there's already enough barriers between them. "Don’t lie to me, Remy. I can smell it on you."

"Remy's not lying," he insists.

And the thing is, he's not. That's not what Logan can smell on him. But that sweet, metallic scent is there, and Logan can feel his anger starting to diminish. He grits his teeth, trying to get rid of the influence he can feel sliding at the edges of his emotions. "Empath, then."

Remy's still shaking his head, but that damning scent is fading, leaving only sadness and fear behind. "Not an empath, either. It's just the charm… it's just a parlor trick, oui? Just a little something to make a person feel… better. Make them like Remy a little bit more. Don' use it all the time, just to make some things feel nicer."

Kid's still not lying, not even realizing that his 'charm' is empathic. Probably been using it without even realizing what it was. An untrained kid with too many scars, and it's most likely just another tool in his defensive arsenal, which makes Logan burn with another kind of anger.

But he can't forget that Remy was messing with his head, intentional or not, and now Logan can't even be sure that what he's felt all this time is real. Maybe it is, but maybe it's just another thought that doesn't really belong to him. Whoever that is.

Remy's not crying as Logan packs up his stuff, but Logan can still smell the sadness. It doesn't stop him from leaving, not even when he hears Remy's soft, "See you later," both a promise and a question.

Logan's not sure how he feels about either of them as he closes the door behind him.

~*~

He doesn't even last three months, his anger dying as Remy keeps his distance, but the feeling of _want_ doesn't fade. By the time Remy shows up in the seedy little bar outside of Saskatchewan, Logan's long past angry and deep into sorry that he thought Remy was manipulating him. He's also horny as hell, and barely lets Remy walk into his room before he's on him, tearing clothes if he can't get them unbuttoned fast enough, needing to lick and suck his way down that long neck, across broad shoulders, along narrow hips and thick, hard dick.

He reduces Remy from English to French to gibberish, and finally to a sleepy pile of boneless pleasure that's trying his hardest to reciprocate, but Logan just jacks off, coming over Remy's stomach, another brand on him. Remy just smiles as he finally gives into sleep.

They spend a week in the little cabin that Logan's squatting in before Remy's finally had it with the lack of running water. He's smiling as he packs, though, his customary _See you later_ already on his lips, but Logan beats him to it with, "Stay. We don't have to stay here, but don't leave. We can travel together for a while, see what we see."

He already knows that Remy won't stay. Not because Remy doesn't like him, or doesn't want to be near him, but because it's too much like being caged. Remy's never admitted that he was one of the mutants that had been taken, has never talked to Logan about any specifics of his life before, both of them creatures of the present.

But they both have nightmares. Logan's are about things he can't really identify: wars and battles that are horrifyingly familiar and yet nothing he can name, places and people he wants to remember but can't, and pain that goes beyond memory, straight to the core of him. Remy never talks about his, just turns over and pretends to go back to sleep.

Logan's tired of being alone, though. He likes his own company, likes his own thoughts, and he doesn't want to live in Remy's pocket by any means, but he'd still like him to stay.

He doesn't argue when Remy shakes his head, just nods his agreement as Remy promises _later_. Logan's pretty sure he can be patient when he wants to be.

~*~

It all almost comes to a stop the day that Creed shows up. Not that Logan knows who the fuck he is, just that he's a welcome sight. At first.

It had started at a bar in Albany, Remy smiling wide as he separated a bunch of fools from their money. He hadn't even been cheating, that's how bad of players they were. They'd left without grumbling, though, and had Logan smiled as he smelled Remy's charm, knowing why that was.

But Remy's smile and the pleasant little buzz Logan had managed to get had all disappeared when the clown, face covered with white paint and a red diamond on his forehead and wearing some stupid blue metal bodysuit like he was a villain out of a bad movie, had shown up. He'd tried to grab Remy, dragging him close like a wayward child, but Remy slipped away from his hands, at Logan's side before Logan had even finished shouting his name.

He'd gone in, claws flashing, but the asshole just seemed to reform around them. He'd laughed at Logan before he sent him flying, not even looking like it took effort. Remy had charged some cards, taking out half the bar, but even that hadn't fazed the guy, and Logan had been hard-pressed to think of what the fuck they were going to do to get out of there.

And that's when Creed had shown up. Not that Logan had known his name, but the clown had called him that when he told him not to interfere. Creed hadn't seemed to care, though, pointing at Logan and saying, "What you do with your own is your call, but he's mine."

Creed had sent claws (familiar, familiar, sort of like Logan's own) slashing into Mr. Watches Too Many Damned Movies, but they hadn't had any more effect than Logan's. Except that the clown had left after that, stepping into a vortex of some type and disappearing like a weird outtake from the _Wizard of Oz_.

Creed had turned to Logan, then, and smiled. All teeth and fangs, nothing pleasant about it, and he'd pointed at Logan as he'd said, "Always brothers, always that. The only one allowed to kill you is me."

He hadn't stayed to try, though, just tossing off a salute to Remy, saying, "Nice to see you again, LeBeau. Bet you missed me, didn't ya?" as he exited through the new doorway to the bar Remy had made.

Once he'd been over his shock, and once he'd seen Remy was okay, he'd taken off after the man, not even caring about the threat to kill him if the asshole would answer some questions, and, God, he knew Logan somehow. Knew him like a brother, apparently, if a rather homicidal one.

The scent had disappeared not a block from the bar, though. Just vanished into thin air. Logan had wanted to scream his disappointment, but he tamped it down, figuring Remy would have some answers, at least about who Creed was.

Remy was gone when he got back, and for one panicked moment, Logan had thought the clown had come back and finished what he'd started, but then he'd found the trail, leading right back to their room.

As soon as he sees him, Logan asks, "Are you okay? Why didn't you wait for me?"

It takes him a moment to notice that Remy's packing, and that the scent of fear, rare these days, is all over Remy right now. "Hey, what's wrong? Is it that Creed guy? You know him, right?"

He reaches a hand out to pull Remy closer, but Remy jerks away, looking at him with panicked eyes, the fear only getting stronger. "Has this all been a game? You said you were going to kill him, but he's still alive! And he fucking called you brother!"

Keeping his distance, not wanting to spook the kid any further, Logan put up a hand to halt Remy's words. "I have no idea who he is, I swear. If the clown in the makeup hadn't said his name, I wouldn't even know that. And if I said I'd kill him… Remy, I don't remember it. I can't tell you why I didn't, but since he said I was his to kill, I'm guessing I gave it a shot somewhere along the line."

That seemed to reach Remy, and he stopped looking like he was going to bolt at any moment. "Wouldn't show if you did. He's like you. He heals."

There's a wealth of feeling in those words, none of it good, and Logan can tell it's first-hand knowledge. So somewhere along the line Remy must have tried to kill him, too. And since Logan had apparently promised Remy he was going to kill Creed, it's obvious where Remy knows him from. Logan wants to ask for particulars, wants to glean every last piece of information about this man who knew him as he'd been before, more than Remy had, even if not in a good light, but he knows it'll only make Remy more nervous. He won't get anywhere with it tonight.

But the scent of fear is fading if not disappearing, and Remy's not avoiding his touch anymore. They can't stay here tonight, or Remy won't relax at all, but maybe, if he can hold on tightly enough, if he can bury himself deep inside Remy, if he can wash away any scent but _need_ and _them_ , he can at least keep them together long enough that he can get some kind of lead.

He gets one more day and the fact that Creed's first name is Victor, but Remy doesn't say anything else when he leaves, and Logan knows better than to ask him to stay.

~*~

He's been with the X-men for just over a month when he gets an email that says, _There's a cabin in the woods that start just past the mansion. You have a half-hour to find it before I leave_.

Logan makes it in just under twenty-five minutes, tracking Remy's scent rather than trying to find the cabin itself. Remy's wearing nothing but a smile when Logan walks in.

The first time is quick and hard, hands and mouths touching and sucking on the border of pain. But the second time is slow, Logan pulling Remy on top of him, dicks pressed close to each other, riding the grooves of their hips until neither of them can hold out any longer, breathing hard into each other's mouth as they spiral down.

Remy's idea of post-coital talk is to say, "I hear you finally kept your promise and killed Creed."

He'd been calling himself Sabretooth, and hadn't seemed to recognize Logan. It had actually taken Logan a while to recognize him as well, Creed's appearance very changed even with the claws and the healing factor. But for all of Logan's questions about his past, still unanswered after years of trying, he couldn't have let that bastard live. Some things were more important than answers.

One of those things is in his arms now, and he's missed him. After Creed and the clown in the bar, Remy had been distant, only coming to him once, and then his trail had ran completely cold for months, the first time that had happened since they'd started this.

Wherever he's been, it hasn't been fun; Remy's body's leaner than ever, two new scars, still red and healing, mixed in with the old. Logan wants to ask about them, but he knows to bide his time, to let Remy meet him halfway.

But Remy is still focused on what Logan's been doing. "Remy also hear you got yourself a new girlfriend." His tone is teasing, but Logan can smell the anxiety/fear/anger that went along with it.

He traces a finger along Remy's lips, trying to broadcast how happy he is to see him, hoping Remy's charm will pick it up. He seems to relax a little, so perhaps he has. Maybe it's just the touch, something that Remy seems to fond of even outside of sex. "She's not really my girlfriend, you know. More that she's very attractive, and it absolutely drives Cyke crazy when I flirt with her. She's… special, though. I think you'll like her."

It's the closest he's been to asking Remy to stay in more than half a year. He doesn't have to be alone anymore, Marie, hell, even the others, giving him a sense of belonging he can't remember having with anyone besides Remy before. But he'd be happier (would stop worrying so much) if Remy would stay.

"Remy's done work for people they wouldn't agree with." It's said quietly, but the fear/disgust/anger that's coming off of Remy is strong, and he's using third person to talk about himself, which is never a good sign.

Logan doesn't know what Remy's done, or why he's done it when he so obviously isn't happy with his actions, but he just holds him tight. "I don't care what they would or won't like. I like you, that's what matters. If they can't take it, well, we can just leave."

Remy smiles at him, and Logan can tell he doesn't quite believe him, but before he can argue about it, before he can make Remy understand, there's soft lips on his, and long fingers pressing inside of him, and Logan's missed this so much.

He wakes to find semen drying on his stomach and a note beside the bed. He doesn't need to read it to know what it says. He just hopes that it's true.

It's only later, back in the mansion, that Logan wonders where Remy got his information from. Wonders exactly what Remy's done.

~*~

Logan's staring at the headstones, trying to breathe through his grief, when he smells him coming. Fear/grief/lust, and even if Logan hadn't recognized him by smell, that odd mix would give Remy away. He doesn't turn, though, knowing Remy will come to him.

He does look when Remy is by his side. It's been a year since he's seen him (or had any word of him at all), and he looks exhausted. Thinner even than last time, like he's been worn away, and Logan wants to hug him, to hold him close and tell him everything's all right. He doesn't know if it's true, though. He's always demanded honesty from Remy, the least he can do is give it back.

Remy has his Ray-Bans on, the day far too bright for his light-sensitive eyes, but he holds Logan's eyes through them all the same. He licks his lips, still deciding what to say, though Logan would bet he'd planned it out long before he got here. When he finally does speak, it's not what Logan was expecting. "I'm sorry I didn't get to meet her."

Logan finds that he's sorry, too. He loved Jean in a lot of ways, even in some of the ways he loves Remy, but he thinks he might have got to know her better, been a better friend to her, if he'd had Remy there to take the potential romantic elements out of the equation. He has to admit, when push came to shove, that Cyke truly had loved her, and he regrets even the small amount of doubts he placed in their relationship.

Plus, he'd have paid good money to see what kind of mischief Remy and Jean combined could have come up with.

He must be broadcasting, because he sees Remy wince at the spike of grief Logan can't contain. He feels the grief fade a little; not gone, just tamped down so that he can breathe again, and he smells Remy's charm. Logan usually hates when Remy does that, but he has to admit it's a relief. He takes Remy's hand and squeezes, letting him know he appreciates it. The stay like that for a while, both of them looking at the memorial to two people who'd found happiness with each other even when the world had seemed to be against them.

Eventually Logan breaks the silence. He's found that he truly can be patient when he wants to be, but he doesn't really want to be now. "Are you here just to visit?"

Remy squeezes his hand hard for a moment, then says, "Remy did some things…" He trails off, then corrects himself, " _I_ did some things that… that I didn't want to, but I did. And I'm not sure…"

Logan lets the silence fall as he works out what he thinks he knows. Remy's trail had disappeared into thin air, like Creed's had before. Remy didn't contact him for long periods of time, as if he didn't have the freedom to do so. These are things he knows for sure, and he hates what he guesses it means. "That clown with the makeup… he catch you?"

The grip on his hand is almost painful now, but Logan just holds on and waits for Remy to find his answer. "Not makeup. Not a clown, neither, 'less you the kind of person that hates clowns and thinks they're evil."

"He is evil, then?"

Remy tenses up more at that, but then lets it go in a sigh. "Oui, that he is. Name's even Sinister, like he's just wanting people to know that up front, too. But he… it weren't all bad. He helped Remy to fix some stuff wrong in his head. Can't really remember it all that well, and he might have been the one that caused it to go wrong in the first place, but… it still wasn't as bad as it could have been. Stryker was much worse."

Logan almost growled at that name. He knew a lot better what the bastard had done, now, knew what he had cost Logan. Could guess what he had cost Remy, and hated it. But even though Remy had said it wasn't as bad, it was obviously nothing that was going to make Logan happy. "What happened?"

"Kept me locked up at first, and that… Remy thought that might drive him crazy for sure, this time, but then… well, he said Remy near brought down his lab on him when he tried to get away, and that Remy 'most died. That's when Remy messed up his head, messed up his powers some way. 'Most took down everything he touched there for a while. Didn't even try to get away after that. Weren't no point when there's no where you can go. But then the Doctor, he fixed it, and… well, it's better than it was, even. Not as many headaches. So Remy owed him, oui? Did some work for him, me. Thieving and stuff. He had Creed working with him, and it was… hard sometimes, but he let this boy run free, mostly. Said if Remy just did some jobs for him, he'd let him go. But the last job, it went bad. Just supposed to get some information, and then… and then take out one of the doctors that Sinister thought needed to be stopped."

Remy is looking at Logan, waiting for him to judge the murder he'd been going to commit, but while Logan would have taken captivity over helping Sinister, he can't say that he doesn't understand what was driving Remy's actions. It's bad, and he wishes it wasn't on Remy's conscience like this, but he's not to let Remy run over it. He just holds onto the hand that's gone cold in his grip, using touch to prove to Remy that he's still here.

Some of the fear scent dies away, Remy calming down now that Logan knew his greatest sin. "The job intel was wrong, though, and no one knew what we was talking about. I knew they were telling the truth, but Creed wouldn't believe them. Started tearing into them, not even caring if he was killing them or not. Tried to stop him, me, but… I hurt him good, but the bastard just healed on me. Sliced me up fairly bad. The Doctor, he wasn't happy, but leastways he blamed Creed more than me. And when I finally healed up, he let me go."

There's a pause there, as if Remy's expecting him to catch something, but Logan's not sure what it is. The thing that Remy feels most guilty about didn't even happen after all, so it was just the intent that's bothering him, and Logan's acceptance seems to have helped. Unless he's waiting for Logan to give him grief over the year that he stayed away with no reason… and it hits Logan then, what Remy looks like now. Like someone that's just recovered from a serious illness. Or from being seriously injured.

"It wasn't Creed I killed when I killed Sabretooth, was it? Somehow it wasn't him, and now he's still out there?"

Remy hesitates again, but it's mostly just exhaustion that's weighing on him now, slurring his words a little. "Oui. Stryker's projects, the experimentation with grafting different powers into a person, it was Sinister's work mainly. Sinster's got some kind of way of making himself look different, so Stryker didn't even know he was working with another mutant. Working _for_ another mutant. Said that the US government was the best procurers he'd ever hired." Remy grimaced at whatever was playing behind his eyes, before he finished with, "He keeps a couple of knockoff Sabertooths around so that Creed don' have to always go out and risk drawing attention."

Logan knows that bothers Remy, but he's pretty sure that the thing that's really driving the disgust he can smell on him is the thought that Sinister might have knockoffs of Remy, too. Remy would have said if he knew for sure, but there's no way the kid didn't think of that possibility.

He's tired. He's just lost two people who were very important to him, and he hasn't even been given a chance to mourn them properly. But there's no way he can't bring this to Xavier's attention now, no way the X-Men can ignore it.

And they need Remy. He has intel they need on Sinister, and evil clown or no, someone who can change appearance, make secret passageways out of thin air, and has the knowledge to create an army of mutant drones is going to be damn hard to take down. And that's if they had been up to full strength.

But Remy's just come out of living his greatest nightmare for the second time of his life (if not third or more, because Logan's always wondered if that fear hadn't had deeper roots than even he's guessed), and keeping him at the mansion, needed or not… Logan can't do that to him. Not if Remy doesn't want to stay.

Maybe he's broadcasting again, or maybe Remy just knows him that well. Either way, he pulls Logan's hand into both of his, fingers cold against Logan's heat, and asks, "Do you think they'll let me in?"

Logan feels like he's won something, feels like raising his hands in victory, feels like kissing Remy until neither of them can see straight. He gives into that last one, feeling the restlessness, that had lived in him since he woke up and didn't know who he was, still for the moment. Whatever he'd been, this is who he is now.

He pulls Remy along by the hand and opens the door to the mansion to let him in.

/story


End file.
